


Insubordination

by AmberBrown



Series: Earning Their Keep [6]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-12 04:45:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12951561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberBrown/pseuds/AmberBrown
Summary: The Musketeers are sent on an undercover mission to rendezvous with a Spanish spy. Aramis disobeys an order, leaving the rest to rescue him before it is too late.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady_Neve](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Neve/gifts).



> This was written from a prompt by Lady_Neve.  
> I hope it lives up to your expectations.  
> If you have not read the other stories in this series you should be able to pick up on most of the back story, but in short; After a traumatic experience, Aramis and d’Artagnan started sleeping together. Athos and Porthos know, and have no issues with the relationship.

‘Where is he?’

D’Artagnan looked up at Athos who was crouched beside him, shaking him awake.

‘Where is Aramis?’ 

Confused d'Artagnan looked to his left and found the man in question to be missing. 

‘I have no idea,’ he said.

‘He’s gone to the meeting on ‘is own. I’ll kill him,’ said Porthos, without bothering to hide his anger.

‘He may get himself killed before you have the chance,’ said Athos ruefully, ‘I should have watched him. I should have known he would do something stupid.’

‘It’s not your fault,’ said d’Artagnan, ‘we all saw how angry he was.’

MMMM

_The day before… ___

__‘The four of us will be too conspicuous, if I go alone I can meet the informant, get the papers, and be back in a two hour.’_ _

__‘No.’_ _

__Aramis threw his hands in the air and turned his back on Athos shaking his head. Porthos took a step forward._ _

__‘Aramis, it’s too dangerous. There’s been militia seen in the area and mercenaries could be ‘anging around. If you could meet the man as a Musketeer you would probably be alright, but we are undercover,’ said Porthos, equally as annoyed at his friend’s inability to see the problem._ _

__‘I’m not a child, I can look after myself,’ Aramis almost shouted, as he turned back to face them._ _

__D’Artagnan wanted to step in, but he could not decide whose side to take. He could see the issue with both arguments. Aramis was correct that on his own he would draw less attention, but Athos and Porthos had a valid point about how dangerous the area was._ _

__They had stopped to camp a few miles from the rendezvous point. Originally, they had planned to meet the informant early the following morning together, but Aramis had suggested he go alone, causing the three men to argue. D’Artagnan remained silent._ _

__‘If one of the militia gets hold of you both, what do you think they will do?’ said Athos as he tried to regain control of the spiralling argument, ‘they will either kill you both straight away as spies or torture you for information…is that what you want to happen?’_ _

__‘We could all be caught and treated as spies, what difference does it make? On my own I will not be as easily spotted. Four men walking into that small town are going to be noticed. One man, passing through, will barely warrant a second glance.’_ _

__‘You are going to meet a Spaniard, Aramis, France and Spain are enemies. The four of us would stand a better chance of gettin’ away if we are ambushed…why won’t you see sense?’_ _

__‘Why can’t you two see sense? D’Artagnan, you’re keeping quiet, what’s your opinion.’_ _

__Athos sighed loudly, ‘don’t answer that d’Artagnan.’_ _

__‘Why can’t he answer?’_ _

__‘Look at him Aramis, he does not know which of us to side with, and if you start trying to manipulate him you are going to cause us all problems.’_ _

__‘I’m not being manipulated,’ said d’Artagnan, a little annoyed that he was being used by both men to back up an argument, ‘I just don’t know whose idea is better, I can see the reasoning behind both…I’m sorry Aramis, Athos, but I’m not going to be drawn into it.’_ _

__Aramis glared at him, d’Artagnan was a little surprised that his lover was trying to use him to back up his argument._ _

__‘What? I’m not just going to automatically side with you.’_ _

__‘The answer is no. I do not like to use my rank against you, you know that. But this is too dangerous. We will go tomorrow, together.’_ _

__Aramis turned his back on them all again and walked to the edge of the tree line around their camp. D’Artagnan could tell by his posture that he was very angry. They had not argued before. The group often had disagreements about the best course of action, but d’Artagnan had not been in direct conflict with Aramis before. Other than the time Aramis had given him a stern talking to when he had stupidly tried to pay for sex, he had not seen his lover this angry. And Aramis seemed to be angry with him as well. Although d’Artagnan knew the man would calm down and they would all apologies, he did not think it would be for a couple of days._ _

__‘I am sorry d’Artagnan, I did not mean to draw you into that.’_ _

__‘I know, I’m annoyed that he did though,’ replied d’Artagnan, glancing back at Aramis._ _

__‘Let’s leave ‘im be for a bit, he’ll see sense,’ said Porthos as he turned back to the campfire and began to sort out his bedroll._ _

__MMMM_ _

__As Aramis had quietly left the camp he silently apologised to his brothers. He knew he was going against a direct order, but he did not care, his was the better plan. He knew his brothers were just worrying about him going on his own, but they were worrying unnecessarily. On his own no one would pay any attention to him. He would meet the spy, get the paperwork he was carrying and probably meet his friends as they made their way to the rendezvous point. He knew he would be admonished by Athos, but at least the mission would have been completed, and they could go back to being Musketeers. Being undercover in this part of France was dangerous. The sooner they could be themselves the better._ _

__He regretted being angry with d’Artagnan, he had done nothing wrong. Aramis had been wrong to try to get the younger man to side with him. He would make it up to his lover when they were next alone._ _

__It took him an hour to walk to the small town, he knew the informant would be waiting on the outskirts and the man would make himself known to the musketeer when he arrived. As he approached the first building a cough to his left drew his attention. A man was standing at the side of the first house, he looked furtively about before beckoning Aramis toward him._ _

__The man was older than him, and wiry. He had a skittish look about him, constantly looking around and shuffling his feet as if he was keen to leave the area._ _

__‘I thought err…four of you…?’_ _

__‘We decided it would be safer for me to come alone.’_ _

__‘Followed?’_ _

__Aramis realised it would be easier to make the exchange if he spoke to the man in his native tongue._ _

__‘I wasn’t followed, do you have the paperwork,’ he said in Spanish, ‘the quicker we can get this done the better for both of us.’_ _

__The man smiled slightly when Aramis spoke to him and he could understand fully, ‘I have the paperwork, I left it in that copse of trees,’ the man indicated an area behind Aramis._ _

__Aramis nodded. They walked quickly to the copse, the man collected a bag from a hollow in one of the trees._ _

__‘This information is only a week old, it has the current troop movements and numbers.’_ _

__‘Good, your work is invaluable to us…’_ _

__A noise made them turn, Aramis reached for his gun but was too late. Five men had stepped out of the woods and were aiming guns at them both._ _

__‘What is this then?’ said one of the men, he spoke well, clearly a member of the aristocratic classes. But his dress was that of a common man._ _

__‘I might ask you the same question,’ said Aramis, trying to behave as if he and the man he was with had every right to be where they were._ _

__‘Just ‘cos he can speak French don’t make ‘im French,’ said one of the other men with a sneer._ _

__‘I am French,’ said Aramis, ‘now my friend and I will be leaving.’_ _

__Aramis turned to walk away, putting his hand on the spy’s shoulder to turn him away at the same time. The informant did not move, Aramis looked at him and saw the terror in his eyes. The man was frozen in fear._ _

__Two of the newcomers had approached. They grabbed the spy and yanked him back a few paces. The man started speaking quickly in Spanish. The upper-class man who had spoken first looked at Aramis again._ _

__‘Perhaps you should have infiltrated France with someone who speaks French as well as you obviously do?’_ _

__The spy had been forced to kneel, a gun was put to the back of his head._ _

__Aramis was grabbed from behind by two more of the men, they disarmed him and forced him to his knees._ _

__The leader of the group walked up to him, he crouched down in front of him and cupped his fingers under Aramis’ chin. He forced Aramis to turn his head from side to side before taking his hat from him and tossing it aside. The man nodded before rising and walking to the spy, he made the same examination of the other man._ _

__‘Kill that one, he can barely speak French, we won’t get anything out of him.’_ _

__Aramis felt his heartbeat increasing, as he watched the man step away from the spy who looked across at him, shock in his eyes. One of the two men behind the spy pulled out a knife, he leaned forward and dragged the blade across the terrified man’s throat. They let him go. Clutching at his bleeding neck the man toppled forward, a gurgling sound coming from him as blood pooled around him. It did not take him long to die._ _

__Aramis was not sure what his best course of action was. He could not fight his way passed five armed men, he would have to allow them to take him, and try to escape when the opportunity arose._ _

__If the opportunity arose._ _

__He was pulled to his feet and had his wrists tied behind his back. He looked at the men who had captured him. They were all dishevelled and did not look as if they had been in civilised company for weeks, or months. They were exactly the sort of men Athos had suspected were in the area, that they had all expected were in the area. Militia. And he had been stupid enough to get himself caught by them._ _

__He again silently apologised to his friends, he thought about d’Artagnan, they had not spoken again after the argument. Normally when they camped he would have laid his bedroll out next to d’Artagnan, but the night before he had laid his bed roll out further away, isolating himself from them all._ _

__The men were looking at him in a manner that made him feel uncomfortable. He wondered what was in store for him._ _

__MMMM_ _


	2. Chapter Two

‘We’ll head towards the town, he’ll probably be on his way back by the time we get there,’ said Porthos as he mounted up, and grabbed the reins to Aramis’ horse.

They had barely spoken as they broke camp, Porthos had tried to make conversation a couple of times but neither of the other men were interested. They were all concerned, and angry. It was not unusual for Aramis to be a little impetuous but that did not make it any easier for the others to deal with the problems he created. 

They pushed the horses into a trot and made their way toward the town, each man carefully scanning the road as they went. They reached the town having seen no sign of Aramis. 

Porthos looked around, the spy was also conspicuous by his absence. 

‘Do you think he met the spy and they went somewhere together?’ said Athos.

‘Let’s check around, they could be close by,’ said d’Artagnan twisting around on his horse to appraise their surroundings.

‘But we keep together, somethin’ feels weird round here.’

They walked the horses towards the wooded area near the town. They did not expect Aramis and the spy to have moved further into the town. At the treeline d’Artagnan dismounted and walked into the copse, Porthos and Athos waited, watching the younger man briefly scout the area. He stopped, looking a few feet ahead. Porthos tried to see what d’Artagnan was looking at, he dismounted and walked forward finding Athos at this side.

‘Aramis’ hat…’ said d’Artagnan pointing.

Porthos turned slowly on the spot looking at the ground, ‘it doesn’t look like there’s been a fight…but look there.’

Porthos took a couple of steps and crouched down. The ground was dark, he reached down and rubbed at the earth, he sniffed his fingers, the smell of blood was unmistakable. 

‘Blood, and a lot of it,’ he said as he stood back up, wiping his hand across his breeches. 

He turned back to Athos and d’Artagnan, who had picked up Aramis’ hat and was clutching it as if it held a clue to the whereabouts of their missing brother. 

‘Excuse me, monsieur,’ came a voice from behind them.

They turned to see a man standing by their horses, a woman just behind him was stroking Aramis’ mare.

‘Are you looking for someone,’ the man continued, ‘I saw you looking a bit lost.’

Athos walked towards the man, Porthos collected d’Artagnan with a gentle push and followed.

‘We saw two men being confronted, our house is the closest, to here,’ the man pointed in the direction of the town, the closest house had a direct line of sight into the copse. 

‘Yes monsieur, we believe something has happened to our friend, can you tell us what you saw?’ asked Athos.

‘Two men, your friend and another, met outside our house, they walked to the copse, they were talking for a few minutes, the other man had a bag. They were surrounded by some of the…men who think they are protecting us.’

Porthos held up his hand, ‘protecting you?’

‘Yes, a group of men from…I don’t know where, arrived a few months ago…they say they are protecting us from the Spanish. They got hold of a man a few weeks ago who was speaking Spanish. They killed him.’

Porthos looked at Athos and d’Artagnan grimly. Porthos nodded for the man to continue.

‘My wife thinks she knows where the men are living,’ the man said nodding towards his wife who was still a few yards away talking to Aramis’ mare. 

Athos nodded to d’Artagnan who walked across to the woman. The man walked a few feet away from his wife indicating for the two men to follow him. 

‘My wife did not see everything, your friend, he was the one with the hat that young man is holding onto?’

Porthos nodded, still thinking about the patch of blood they had found.

‘The other one, they slit his throat, he died in there. I could barely watch. They dragged the body further into the copse,’ the man paused, he glanced back towards his wife and d’Artagnan before continuing, ‘they restrained your friend and took him with them…before they went, one of the men …he touched him, touched him inappropriately. These men, they are feral…animals. I won’t let my wife or daughter out alone with them around…and after what I saw today, I won’t be letting my boy out alone anymore either.’

The man looked disgusted at what he had seen. 

‘Thank you, monsieur,’ said Athos. 

‘You are soldiers, aren’t you? Your friend was meeting an informant. You are working to keep France safe,’ the man said, ‘my brother was a soldier, you have the same look about you all, as does your friend.’

Porthos was about to speak but the man stopped him.

‘I will not say anything. But please, if you can rid us of these men when you rescue your comrade I would be grateful. They have a misguided purpose, they are making a fraught situation worse.’

‘We will monsieur. We will,’ said Porthos.

The man walked away, joining his wife who had already begun to move back toward the town. D’Artagnan walked across to join them.

Before d’Artagnan reached them, Athos said quietly, ‘don’t tell him what they did to Aramis.’

Porthos nodded, both Aramis and d’Artagnan had been attacked in the past. Knowing that Aramis was potentially in danger of a sexual assault again, might have had an adverse effect on d’Artagnan. 

‘She says there is an old house a few miles from here. It’s been abandoned but is structurally sound. Her son used to play in it until some men turned up and scared him away…what did the man say?’

‘The blood ain’t from Aramis, it belongs to the spy,’ said Porthos as he led them back into the woods, ‘they took Aramis…but the body of the spy is still here somewhere.’

It did not take them long to find the bloody corpse, next to which was the bag with the paperwork. 

‘They are not particularly efficient militia if they did not even bother to collect the intelligence,’ remarked Athos as he picked up the bag and began to leaf through the paperwork, ‘everything we were expecting appears to be here.’

They returned to the horses and mounted up, Porthos taking the reins of Aramis’ horse again, he glanced across at d’Artagnan who had carefully stowed Aramis’ hat in his saddlebag. The young man was trying to hide his worry, but was not succeeding very well.

‘We’ll head towards the abandoned house, it will be as good a place to start as any.’

MMMM

D’Artagnan took the lead, following the directions given by the woman. They kept the horses at a walk initially as they had to find a turn off that the woman had told d’Artagnan was difficult to spot. Athos and Porthos allowed him to gain a little ground on them so that they could talk without him hearing.

‘Should we tell ‘im?’ asked Porthos.

‘After what they both went through before, I would not want him being distracted with thoughts of what Aramis might be going through again. Our priority is to get him out, we can deal with anything else afterwards.’

Porthos nodded, ‘you’re right. I hate to think what might be happening to ‘im.’

‘Then do not.’

D’Artagnan had stopped and dismounted, he was looking at the ground. He looked up at them as they approached.

‘I think this is where the turn off is,’ he said pointing into the trees, ‘the lady was right, it’s not easy to spot, you can just make out the path a little further in.’

Athos looked further into the trees and found what d’Artagnan was pointing out, a rough path picked through the wood. D’Artagnan remounted and turned his horse to follow the path. Athos followed d’Artagnan with Porthos and Aramis’ horse behind.

‘Once Aramis explains to the men that he is a musketeer, they’ll let him go,’ said d’Artagnan with a confidence that Athos found hard to believe, perhaps their friend was trying to make the situation less serious than it was.

The chances of the militia having overheard the spy and Aramis speaking Spanish were high. And men who had few scruples probably would not care if Aramis protested his innocence, just being with a Spaniard was probably enough to condemn him as a spy. 

What the man at the town had said about the militia being almost feral was a worry. If the man had been concerned enough to not allow his family out alone was anything to go by, Aramis was potentially in a lot of trouble. 

The gang had already killed a man for speaking Spanish, now they had Aramis who spoke the language fluently. They had also been seen to behave sexually towards his friend, men who have had no contact with woman for months could see anyone as a potential target to relieve their urges. It was not uncommon for soldiers, away at war for months at a time, to seek solace with each other, and not just the ones whose inclinations were similar to Aramis and d’Artagnan’s. 

A group of sex starved militia certainly had the potential to do more than just torture Aramis for information. Athos was very worried for their friend.

MMMM

Aramis would be fine, thought d’Artagnan, he would be released by the militia as soon as they realised he was French and a Musketeer.

He wished they had spoken the night before, he hated that Aramis had gone off on his own, without telling him. And now he had been taken by these men. But he would be alright, they had probably already released him.

When Aramis had laid his bed roll on the other side of the campfire to the rest of them, d’Artagnan had been a little torn. He had wondered if he should move to his side. If he had he may have noticed Aramis leaving the camp and been able to stop him. Was this his fault? Perhaps if he had taken Athos and Porthos’ side in the argument, Aramis would have seen sense? With the three of them united against him, Aramis would have acquiesced. But d’Artagnan had not committed to either argument.

And now his lover was with a group of men who had already killed at least two people. Why was he trying to pretend Aramis would be fine? His lover was in danger.

His lover. As the months had passed since they had first slept together they had eased into a routine. They would see each other once or twice a week, sometimes it would be a quick fuck and other times, when time allowed, they would spend the night together. They would lay together afterwards holding each other tightly, each firmly pressed against the other. 

Then they would return to work and carry on as normal. There had been a couple of instances where one or the other of them had stolen a cheeky kiss or touched the other when no one was looking, but overall, they kept their work life separate to their other activities. Aramis continued to entertain his mistresses, they were a useful source of additional income, the man had no problem with being labelled a tart by d’Artagnan for using the women for money. 

And d’Artagnan, he had Constance, whom he loved. The times he was with her were amazing, although even she had admitted that d’Artagnan was a more attentive lover since he had been with Aramis. They had to fit their liaisons between her husband’s business trips and work appointments. It was not always easy, but they managed it. He loved Constance and would marry her, but the small matter of her husband prevented that.

As they continued to travel through the woods d’Artagnan wondered if what he felt for Aramis was actually the same as he felt for Constance. He loved Aramis as a brother, but did he love him in the same way as he loved Constance. Could he love two people in the same way? He had always considered what he had with Aramis as lust, he had an urge to be with men and had found himself attracted to Aramis. Initially Aramis was more the man with whom he scratched the itch, but it had quickly become more than that. The hours in bed just touching each other, caressing bare skin, the kissing. It was far more than just a fuck. Far, far more.

His lover was in danger and they had parted on bad terms. What if he never saw Aramis again?

MMMM


	3. Chapter Three

When the man had rubbed his hand over Aramis’ groin and leered at him, his knees had almost buckled. The memories of the previous times he had been the victim of unwanted attention from other men flashed through his mind. He knew then that he was in a lot more trouble than he had first thought. These men were hungry for contact, and he had just given them what they wanted. 

They had pushed him up onto a horse and tied him to the saddle. The same man had gagged him firmly, running his fingers through Aramis’ hair as he did so. They picked their way through the woods until they reached a house which looked run down. Probably abandoned by its owners and now being used by the militia.

Once inside the house he had been walked to a room which had probably served as a reception room when the house was lived in. Now it was grubby, the only furniture a table. With a sickening feeling Aramis noticed a few chains with manacles and what looked like a lash propped up in a corner. He suspected he was not the first person to be taken by the gang. 

The gang leader, the aristocratic man, stepped in front of him and pulled the gag from his mouth. 

‘My name is Gerard, and my men and I are protecting this area from the likes of you. Why don’t you tell us what the information is that you have?’

‘I do not have any information for you. I’m French, I’m a Musketeer. The man you killed was helping France. If you had looked at the papers in his bag you would know that.’

The other men in the room sneered and laughed. The two men behind him holding him still tightened their grip.

‘You are clearly a well-trained spy. A Musketeer? You are no soldier, you are a Spanish spy and we will have the truth from you.’

The man turned from Aramis and walked to the corner and picked up the lash, he walked back to Aramis and held the cruel instrument up close to his face. 

‘This will help you to talk,’ the man stepped away again, he looked to the other men, ‘strip him, tie him down.’

Aramis tried to pull away from the men but, despite their clear lack of training they were able to hold him still as they unbuckled his doublet and pulled it off him. Two of the men held his arms whilst they ripped his shirt loose and off his body. Aramis hopped that the men would be satisfied with him being half undressed. But he was not to be that lucky. The man who had rubbed his groin stepped in front of him and made eye contact as he reached for Aramis’ breeches, unbuttoning them slowly, drawing out the moment. The man grinned as he pushed the leather open before slowly pulling the ties on his underclothes. Aramis looked away from the man, not wishing to give him the satisfaction of seeing the fear he knew was in his eyes. 

The men holding him forced him over to the table, Aramis struggled against them protesting his innocence to Gerard the whole time. Grabbing him they roughly pushed him onto the table, his hands were grabbed and pulled forwards, despite his attempts to pull away. One of the men snapped a manacle around each of his wrists, he had little slack on the chains to move his arms. But that was the least of his worries as another of the men had pulled his boots and stockings off. His breeches and underclothes were slipped off, the man doing so trailing a finger along his bare skin as he did so.

‘What information do you have?’ asked Gerard.

As manacles were snapped around his ankles Aramis replied, ‘I have no information to tell you, I’m a Musketeer, I’m on your side.’

Aramis tried to keep his voice calm but knew he was failing, Gerard was wielding the lash menacingly. 

Now that he was fully restrained to the table the men had stepped away from him, Gerard swung the lash once passed Aramis’ face before raising it up. He brought it down across Aramis’ back. He tensed up but did not vocalise the pain. The lash was deployed a second time, again Aramis managed to remain quiet, he screwed his eyes shut. 

‘Tell me the information you have, and I will stop.’

Through clenched teeth Aramis replied, ‘I have no information to give.’

He lost count of the number of times the lash was brought down across his back. Aramis could not help crying out in pain as the beating continued. He pulled at the restraints knowing the metal of the manacles would be cutting the skin on his wrists and ankles, but he wanted to get away from the pain, which was beginning to cloud his judgement.

‘The information, now.’ 

Aramis did not respond. Gerard brought the lash down twice more before leaning over his captive. Aramis managed to open his eyes and stare at the man. 

Between panted breaths Aramis said, ‘I don’t have any…information…to give you.’

Gerard threw the lash on the ground and walked away saying as he did so, ‘clean the wounds, I don’t want him getting an infection.’

Aramis heard footfall around him, the door shut. One man was left in the room busying himself with a bowl of water and some rags. It was the man who had touched him. The man walked up to Aramis, putting the bowl of water on the table next to Aramis’ head. He dampened a rag and began to clean the wounds on Aramis’ back. The man was not rough in his ministrations, he was surprisingly gentle, taking his time. The cool water was welcome on the stinging wounds. Aramis could not guess what state his back was in, it felt as if his whole back had been ripped to shreds. He hoped the pain was worse than the physical damage. 

As his breathing settled he could feel a wave of fatigue washing over him, he wanted to pass out, but knew he should try to stay awake.

The man cleaning his back was continuing his work, moving slowly across his back, reaching further down. Aramis eyes widened, and his breathing quickened again as the man abandoned his cleaning and began to caress the skin on the small of Aramis’ back moving his fingers further down. 

Aramis flinched, and he tried to move away as the man slipped a finger between his buttocks teasing him.

He hissed in pain as the finger was pushed into him, the man began to stroke his arm with his other hand making soothing noises as he did so. Aramis tried to relax, as the man continued to assault him, but found it impossible.

As the man pushed his finger further into Aramis he brushed past the spot inside him that always gave him pleasure. His breath hitched at the attention, the probing finger paused before moving over the spot again and again. Aramis heard the man chuckle softly. He felt so ashamed.

The man stopped after a few minutes, and without a word tidied the bowl and cloths away and walked from the room closing the door behind him. 

It took Aramis a few minutes to steady his breathing. He managed to move his head to look around the room, he pulled at his restraints, the action agitating the wounds on his back. He would not be able to free himself. 

The mans actions were not unexpected, the way the men had behaved around him had told him they wanted more than to merely torture him. He thought about d’Artagnan and how what was, he thought, inevitable, would be a betrayal of his lover. D’Artagnan would say it was not, but Aramis felt that it would be. He had put himself into the position he was now in. He had acted rashly, he should have listened to Athos and Porthos, the area was not safe. He had allowed himself to be caught and now he was going to be fucked by one or more of these sex starved men. 

There was also the very real chance he would be killed when the men became bored with him, when it was obvious that he had no information for them. Gerard would probably allow his men to have their fun and then kill him, they could not release him. 

He would be killed before he had a chance to apologies to d’Artagnan. Was d’Artagnan angry with him? Aramis hated that he had not spoken to his lover again before they settled in for the night. Now he would not have the chance. 

MMMM

They dismounted and crept closer to the old house. There was light from one of the rooms. A few horses were tied up at the side of the building near a water trough. Smoke rose from the chimney.

Athos nodded to Porthos who slowly made his way forward. He kept low and upon reaching the building pressed himself against the wall. They needed to know how many men they would have to deal with and where Aramis was in relation to the men. Could they rush in or would they have to go quietly?

As he reached the window of the lit room Porthos crouched down and waited. He could hear the men within speaking. A door creaked open, the men greeted who ever had entered.

‘Is he all cleaned up, ready for another interrogation?’ asked one of the men, there were a few chuckles from the other men.

‘He don’t know anything, Gerard, why don’t you just let me ‘ave him?’

‘I would like to give him one more chance to talk to us first,’ said another man, his voice a cut above the previous men who had spoken. When he spoke again Porthos felt his blood run cold.

‘But if you want a little fun beforehand, it might help to loosen his tongue.’

The other men jeered. Porthos heard footsteps followed by the door opening again, the upper-class man spoke again, ‘I’ll be in my room…have you’re fun, but do not hurt him too much, after the next interrogation you can have him.’

The door closed, after a few seconds of silence, the man who had said that their captive did not know anything spoke again.

‘When I was cleanin’ his back I took the liberty of ‘aving a little poke about…’ the other men mumbled, one of them chuckled, ‘I think ‘es been with other men. I could tell he was trying to relax…although the poor love was frightened so ‘e didn’t do a very good job…I even managed to get a reaction out of him. The fucker reacted to my touch.’

Porthos knew that Aramis would not have enjoyed the experience, any reaction from him would have been wholly involuntary. He would not relate that piece of information back to the others, and Aramis did not need to know that he knew it.

‘I don’t know how you can fuck another man, Simon, it’s unnatural…’

‘Yeah, but it feels so good, ‘specially when ‘e can’t do nothing about it. I’ll him tied down, legs spread for me. I’m gonna make ‘im scream…if he’s got anythin’ to say he’ll say after I’ve finished with him. He ain’t gonna want a second go with me.’

The other men jeered at the remark. Porthos had heard enough. They needed to get Aramis out, and soon. His friend was in danger of coming to serious harm, and if they left it too long he would be killed.

MMMM


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

He had been left for a few minutes before the same man returned. The man had unhooked the chain that was keeping his wrists in place and manoeuvred him off the table. The man had put a cup of water by his side before leaving the room. Nothing had been said. 

Aramis shuffled around to lean awkwardly on the leg of the table. He picked up the cup of water with shaking hands and managed to take a few sips. He was shivering and in pain. The movement from the table to the floor had hurt his already injured back. The cuts to his wrists and ankles, from his own fight with the manacles, had been exacerbated.

He brought his knees up and hugged his legs in an attempt to keep warm, but the floor was stone and he was naked. He wondered if he would have to worry about the cold for long, he doubted it. He looked at the chains that led from the manacles around his ankles, they were attached to metal rings fixed to the floor. He tried to pull at them, but was too weak to make any impact. He was not going to escape. He had to accept his fate.

The reaction the man had elicited from him earlier played on his mind. He knew that it was not something he could help, his body reacted to some stimulus regardless of his own need or desire for it to. He had not enjoyed the sensation. Unlike when d’Artagnan touched him in such a way, that was different, that was welcomed, wanted. When the man had touched him and stimulated him, caused him to become slightly aroused Aramis had wanted to die. The shame was too much to bear.

He knew that d’Artagnan would not think any the less of him. His lover would not be jealous. His lover would be sympathetic. But still Aramis felt he had betrayed d’Artagnan. 

D’Artagnan, who he would never see again, never get to caress the boyish cheek or kiss his lips. And they had argued, not directly but Aramis knew that d’Artagnan had been hurt by his attempt to get the younger man to take his side. To manipulate him. Why had he done that? He knew that at the time he had been angry, but why did he try to use his lover like that? He did not deserve to be in love with such a man. Love? 

As he sat, huddled up leaning against the table where he would probably die in a few hours he realised he did love d’Artagnan. He loved all his brothers, but what had developed between him and d’Artagnan over the last few months was different. Initially, he had enjoyed the younger man’s company, enjoyed teaching him, helping him to become the attentive lover that he now was. But over time he had come to look forward to, to yearn for their liaisons. What they were doing now, was more than fucking. It was more than one man helping another to feed a craving that he had. Aramis realised he had not been with any other men since he and d’Artagnan had been together. At least not willing, he thought with a shudder, remembering Damon. 

They both still had their women, but for him it was to hide what he was. Much as he enjoyed entertaining his mistresses, they could not please him as much as d’Artagnan did. And his mistresses rarely wanted more than sex. Some of his fondest memories of d’Artagnan were the times they had simply curled up together and held each other or gently caressed and teased each other until one of them fell asleep. 

And now he was going to die and could not tell d’Artagnan how he felt. Could not say how sorry he was for treating him the way he had when he had argued with the others. 

Aramis felt ashamed. And sad. And scared. 

MMMM

When Porthos had returned it was clear the news would not be good. D’Artagnan wondered what Porthos had learned. The big musketeer tucked himself behind the low wall they were crouched by. He glanced back toward the house before he spoke.

‘I didn’t see him, but they ‘ave someone in there. They were talking about interrogating him. The leader said they would give him one more chance to talk before killing him.’

D’Artagnan got the impression Porthos was not telling them everything. Athos clearly thought so to.

‘What else? We need all the information Porthos, you know that.’

Porthos paused, he looked at d’Artagnan then back at Athos who saw the indecision in his eyes. Athos nodded. 

‘What aren’t you two saying?’

‘When Aramis was taken, the men, touched him. The farmer told us when you were talking to his wife…I’m sorry d’Artagnan we did not want you worrying about it.’

D’Artagnan looked between, he was annoyed that they had not felt able to tell him, but he understood why. He nodded.

Porthos continued, ‘I think one of the men in the house intends to rape him, the leader said that the man could, and then they would interrogate him again before the men could have him back.’

Porthos paused looked at d’Artagnan, ‘I’m sorry.’

The vision of his own rape smothered any other thought in his head for a few moments, being held down as the man thrust into him. The pain, the sheer terror he had felt. Aramis holding his hands, whispering to him.

‘D’Artagnan, hey.’

D’Artagnan managed to focus on Porthos who was holding his shoulders firmly.

‘We need you focused, we’ll get him back for you…for all of us.’

MMMM

The door opened, Aramis looked up at the man as he entered. He felt despondent, broken, he knew what was to come and he was unable to stop it. He was weak, he was pathetic. Did he somehow attract this sort of attention? 

The man leered at him, ‘I think you know what I want. What I’m gonna have. Why fight me? I’m gonna have it anyway. If you fight me, I’ll get a couple of the others in ‘ere to hold you down…I know at least two of the others could probably be encouraged to take a turn.’

Aramis looked at the floor. He would not fight the man, he would allow him to do as he pleased. He would be dead soon, what did it matter? D’Artagnan would never know how sorry he felt for the argument. Athos would not know he wished he had not disobeyed him. Porthos would not know how much his friendship had always meant to him.

The man crossed the room and grabbed Aramis roughly under the arms and pulled him. He could barely stand, but it did not matter, the man twisted him around and pushed him forward over the table. Aramis remained where he had been put. The man kicked his legs apart, knocking his already bleeding ankles in the process. Aramis could feel the man tying his ankles to the table legs, keeping his legs spread, he would not be able to resist the man. The man stepped around and grabbed the chain that linked the manacles between his wrists, dragging his arms forwards in the process. He hooked the chain around the end of the table. Aramis was stretched taut across the table, his back burning at the tension the position caused. 

The man pulled a dirty rag from his pocked and forced it into his mouth. 

‘Much as I want you screaming, and you will scream, I don’t wanna annoy the boys next door too much.’

MMMM

As Porthos sat methodically checking each of their weapons Athos looked at d’Artagnan who was still a little unfocused. 

‘What I am about to say is for Aramis’ benefit as much as yours, and ours,’ started Athos pointing at the house, d’Artagnan and himself and Porthos, ‘for the next few minutes you are going to have to forget what Aramis means to you. For the next few minutes, he is a Musketeer that needs our help. He is a brother who needs to be rescued. A friend in need. He is not your lover, d’Artagnan. You have to push any emotional attachment aside…when you find him, deal with him. Do not become upset at whatever state he is in. Get him out of there. When we are all safe again we can deal with Aramis.’

Athos watched as d’Artagnan took in his order, the younger man nodded slowly, his eyes focused again. 

‘Yes,’ he said simply.

‘Good,’ said Athos with a nod and a hand on the musketeer’s shoulder.

He turned to Porthos who had been watching them. 

‘Ready?’

‘Ready. We’ll go in through the front door, the room the men were in was to the left of the door. It looks like they were living in there. The leader might be upstairs, he’s balding, so if he ain’t there watch your backs.’

Athos nodded, he was pleased to see d’Artagnan gather his gun and give it a quick check before putting it in its place on his belt and standing to pull on his gloves. 

‘Let’s get our friend back.’

Athos nodded, Porthos grunted an agreement. They turned toward the house and began to approach.

MMMM

Aramis panted, he screwed his eyes shut, the pain almost unbearable. The man had pushed two fingers into him and was stretching him. He could not help screaming. The gag muffling the sound, making it harder for him to take a breath. The man was laughing, clearly enjoying the pain he was inflicting on his helpless prisoner. 

‘I once fucked a girl so hard she died,’ said the man proudly as he scissored his fingers.

Despite himself Aramis tried to move away from the man, but the moment encouraged the man, he pushed deeper and pulled out quickly before forcing in a third finger. Aramis screamed again. After laughing again, the man slapped him across the back, across the wounds caused by the lash. 

Dizzy with pain Aramis thought he might pass out. Would he be that lucky? Bright light flashed in front of his eyes, flashes of pain. The man slapped him again. The thrusting continued. Aramis did not know if the man still had his fingers pushed inside him or if he had switched to his cock.

Pain was all he could feel. 

MMMM

Porthos quietly opened the door, he peered around into the house before pushing the door fully open. They stepped inside. The door to their left was shut, but light bled underneath it. They had their guns drawn.

Porthos stood on one side of the door, d’Artagnan took up the spot opposite. Athos glanced at them both, when each man nodded he stepped forwards and swiftly kicked the door open. It flew back. Athos rushed through followed by Porthos, both men fired their guns. As d’Artagnan entered he raised his gun and shot a bald man who was drawing his own weapon, d’Artagnan guessed he had killed the leader of the gang.

Two other bodies lay on the floor. Three men were grabbing weapons and moving into fight. A muffled scream filtered thought the sound of swords being drawn. 

Athos glanced back at d’Artagnan and nodded. D’Artagnan did not need to be told twice. He retreated from the room and crossed the hallway reloading his weapon as he went. He paused at the doorway, not wanting to enter without his weapon ready. Another scream had him waver slightly. No. Do as Athos had said, he thought, push the emotion aside, he is your comrade, not your lover, get him safe first.

He kicked the door open. Anger washed over him. A scruffly looking man was stood behind Aramis, who was naked and chained to a table. The man had his cock pressed against Aramis, about to push himself forward, about to rape the helpless captive. 

D’Artagnan raised his gun and fired. The shot hit the man full in the face, the man staggered back a few steps, before toppling backwards to the ground. 

The would be rapist’s body had not hit the ground by the time d’Artagnan was at Aramis’ side. He crouched down and untied the rope from Aramis ankles, both bloody from the manacles that chained them. He could do nothing about the manacles for now. He eased Aramis’ legs together. The man had been cruelly stretched across the table, his arms fully extended. Aramis moaned in pain as d’Artagnan pulled the chain away from the end of the table. Unable to hold himself up, Aramis simply crumpled backwards. D’Artagnan had to be quick to grab him before he hit the floor. The mans back was covered in lash marks. The wounds would heal but he would be left scarred for a long time.

D’Artagnan lifted Aramis face slightly and pulled the dirty gag from his mouth, his eyes were open and he appeared to be looking at him, but it was obvious to d’Artagnan that the man was in too much pain to even try to communicate. 

‘I’ve got you. You’re safe now.’

MMMM


	5. Chapter Five

It had not taken Porthos and Athos long to finish off the militia. The men were ill trained and had panicked when they had burst into the room. Even without d’Artagnan they had easily taken out the men. Now they stood in the room surrounded by bloody corpses. 

‘Go and help d’Artagnan, call me if you need me, I’ll check the bodies,’ said Athos crouching down by the bald man who they knew to have been the leader.

Porthos walked from the room, crossing the dusty hallway into the opposite room. D’Artagnan was sat on the floor cradling Aramis who was naked with manacles on his wrists and ankles. D’Artagnan was holding Aramis in such a way the Porthos could see the wounds to his friends back. 

D’Artagnan looked up at him and spoke with barely contained emotion, ‘he’s passed out. I got here just in time, but he’s been lashed. The wounds need to be cleaned, he…’

‘Hey, he’s alive, and we can look after him now…stay there whilst I look for somewhere we can clean ‘im up.’ 

D’Artagnan nodded.

Porthos returned to the hallway, he walked through to the back of the house and found a kitchen. The men were not particularly house proud, soiled pots lay around the room. But Porthos found water boiling in a pan on the fire and upon opening a few cupboards he found some clean linen. The niceties of life were clearly below the heathen men who had been using the old house. He grabbed the linen before returning to the hall and climbing the stairs. The first floor yielded further dusty unused rooms. The last door he tried opened onto a furnished room with a double bed. The leader must have been using it. He laid the clean linen on the bed and returned to the kitchen, after carefully taking the boiled water up to the bedroom he returned to d’Artagnan and his unconscious brother carrying a blanket pulled from the bed. 

D’Artagnan had been talking quietly to Aramis who had woken. Porthos crouched down in front of them, Aramis did not make eye contact with Porthos. He realised Aramis felt guilty for what had happened. 

Porthos hooked a finger under Aramis, chin and gently moved his head around. 

‘You’re sorry, we know…let’s get you sorted out, then we can talk about what you did. OK?’

Aramis blinked a few times before slowly nodding. Porthos smiled as he unfolded the blanket and helped d’Artagnan to wrap it around the injured man. As they slowly pulled the marksman up to stand it became clear the man would not be making his own way up the stairs. Porthos looked across at d’Artagnan who had finally lost his battle to hold back the tears that had been threatening to fall from his eyes. 

‘Why don’t you see if you can find the keys for the manacles…the leaders body is in there,’ said Porthos nodding towards the other room, ‘…take your time. I’ll get started on cleaning him up.’

D’Artagnan nodded, grateful for the excuse to leave them, Porthos knew the young man needed a few minutes to compose himself, he was not abandoning Aramis. As he walked off Porthos held Aramis a little closer and began to walk him to the stairs. Aramis looked back to the room d’Artagnan had disappeared into. 

‘Is he OK?’ Aramis asked quietly.

‘He will be when you are. Now concentrate on these stairs. There’s a soft bed waitin’ for you at the top.’

The chain on Aramis’ ankles was long enough for him to be able to walk up the stairs. It was slow going and Porthos took most of his friend’s weight. The man whimpered several times, Porthos tried not to pull on the wounds on his back but could not help it when Aramis’ knees buckled, more than once. 

Virtually carrying Aramis the last few yards, Porthos got him onto the bed and lay him on his side. The marksman’s eyes were shut in pain, he was shaking and close to passing out again.

‘You’re safe, pass out, don’t try to hold on,’ said Porthos as he brushed stray hair from his friend’s face.

‘I wanted to tell him I’m sorry…wanted to tell him he means more to me than…I thought,’ Aramis said, as he managed to focus on Porthos, he paused for a few moments, as Porthos watched him trying to order his thoughts.

‘I’m sorry I went on my own…I shouldn’t have…’

‘I know, but we’ll sort that out later,’ said Porthos for the second time. 

Aramis managed a nod. 

‘I need to clean your back…and the rest of you, you’re filthy.’

Aramis managed a small pained smile as he closed his eyes, the tension in his body leaving him. Porthos gently pulled the blanket away from his friend and lay the unconscious man on his front. Porthos shook his head as he took in the damage. Across Aramis’ back were several lash marks, some were bleeding, others not much more than welts. The rest of his body was dirty from the grime of the dusty house, mixed with the marksman’s sweat. Porthos began the slow task of cleaning his injured friend. 

Porthos pondered the confused words Aramis had spoken. He had said that d’Artagnan meant more to him than he had realised. Porthos wondered in what way d’Artagnan meant more. It was obvious that both men were fond of each other, more so since they had been sleeping together. But both Athos and he thought their relationship was more for d’Artagnan’s sake. When Athos had told him in confidence what had gone on between the two men Porthos had fully understood. They had been through a very traumatic experience and had sought solace with each other in order to overcome the effect that experience had on them. And the feelings that the events had awoken in d’Artagnan were sated by the relationship with Aramis. 

But Aramis, in his confused, pained, state had made it quite clear that he thought more of their relationship than perhaps they had originally intended. 

Was it the shock of the assault he had just been through? Or had Aramis confession been genuine?

Was Aramis’ relationship with d’Artagnan more than him helping his friend to sate the urges that had awoken in him? 

MMMM

D’Artagnan stood in the doorway looking at the bodies of the men scattered around. Athos watched the younger man for a few seconds, it was clear he had shed a few tears, but had managed to pull himself together again.

‘Porthos has taken him upstairs. I’m to look for the keys to the manacles,’ d’Artagnan said as he surveyed the scene.

D’Artagnan crossed to the bald man’s body and began to rifle through his pockets, once he had found what he was looking for he stood up and turned to walk away but stopped. Athos could tell he wanted to say something but was unsure if he should.

‘If you have something to say, you can…if it is about what I said earlier about not treating Aramis as any more than a friend I am sorry, but I meant it, I needed you focused.’

‘No Athos, I probably needed you to say that to me. It’s just that, all this happening has made me realise that he…that he means more to me than just…sex. I love Constance, but I think I feel the same way about him…I…’

Athos tried to remain impassive, not wanting to either encourage or discourage d’Artagnan from continuing. What the young man had to say had to be said without any duress. It was clear he had thought through what he was saying.

‘Would it be wrong for me to think of him differently…I love you all but with him, it’s…different…’ d’Artagnan paused, looking at the key in his hand, ‘if he had died, I would have…I don’t know…’

Athos stood up and crossed the small gap between them, he put his hand on d’Artagnan’s shoulder, snapping the musketeer out of his reverie, ‘go and help Porthos.’

D’Artagnan looked at him for a few moments before nodding and leaving the room, Athos could hear his light tread on the stair. 

Athos wondered if Aramis knew how much affection d’Artagnan clearly had for him?

MMMM

Porthos descended the stairs and walked into the room where he found Athos arranging the men’s belongings on a table. A little money and some weapons. 

‘I’ve left d’Artagnan to finish off cleaning the wounds on his wrists and ankles. He’s been lashed, but we got here before they did anything else. He’s exhausted, and won’t be up for travelling for a couple of days I’d say,’ Porthos reported as he stood aside for Athos to pass him. 

They walked through to the kitchen and after clearing a space at the cluttered table and finding an unopened bottle of wine and some clean cups, they sat down. Athos poured them each a generous share of the wine. 

‘What’s up with you?’ asked Porthos when he saw how troubled Athos looked. 

‘D’Artagnan, he is in love with Aramis, he did not say it directly, but he meant it. I do not know if Aramis is aware, I am worried how it will affect us.’

Porthos sat back in his chair, ‘it’s reciprocated,’ he said simply.

Athos furrowed his brow in response.

‘I thought maybe ‘e was concussed, or it was the general shock of what had happened, but just now, Aramis said the same to me, that d’Artagnan means more to ‘im than he realised…maybe they should tell each other, be a lot easier.’

‘This will affect us, I do not want it to, but it will. I will have to get one of them reassigned…what?’

‘Athos, it ain’t affected us yet ‘as it?’

‘You were there when I had to tell d’Artagnan how he had to behave before we came in here…’

Porthos smiled holding up his hand to stop Athos, who was not thinking as he was, ‘this, admittedly did affect d’Artagnan, but remember that was straight after I said Aramis was in danger of being raped. I think we can forgive him getting a little worked up about that considering what they’ve both been through before.’

Athos did not respond.

‘But think about it. They’ve been sleeping together for months now, and it ain’t had any affect on us. Remember a couple of months ago when Aramis was knocked out and used as a hostage for a couple of hours by those bandits? D’Artagnan was nothing but professional during that, he was as anxious as the rest of us, but he was there when we needed him to be, he didn’t question any of your orders. And Aramis did not protest when you had to give d’Artagnan a dressing down for tardiness. If them being in a…loving…relationship was going to have an affect on us, it would ‘ave done by now. They may not ‘ave told each other yet but the feelings didn’t just happen overnight.’

Athos looked off into the distance for a few moments before a slight smile passed his lips, ‘I suppose you are right. This was a bit different. Aramis did not help the situation by arguing with us and putting d’Artagnan in an awkward position,’ Athos paused, ‘but Aramis still needs to account for his insubordination. I am going to have to tell Treville and he will need to set an example by punishing Aramis, nothing too bad, just a bit annoying…give him a chance to reflect on his behaviour…’

Porthos nodded with a smile. 

They both spoke at the same time, ‘stable duty.’

MMMM

D’Artagnan wiped his sleeve across his eyes again, he sniffed. Aramis was still unconscious. He no longer looked in pain, which, thought d’Artagnan, was a good sign. When he had returned to the bedroom, Porthos had finished cleaning their friend. He had cleaned the wounds on Aramis’ back and used the linen and hot water to wash the dirt from the rest of his body. They had removed the manacles and d’Artagnan helped Porthos to lay Aramis on his side so that they could cover him with a blanket so that it was not lying directly on the injured man’s back. 

After giving d’Artagnan a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder Porthos had returned to the lower floor. 

D’Artagnan had gently cleaned the cuts to his lover’s ankles and wrists before wrapping them in strips of linen.

The injured man had not shown any signs of waking. 

D’Artagnan looked at his lover before saying, ‘I wanted to tell you how much you mean to me. When you went off and I thought I wouldn’t see you again, I wanted to die,’ he lay his hand over Aramis’ curling his fingers around the still man’s, ‘I can’t imagine you not being there. I should tell you when you’re awake...but you don’t feel the same…’

‘I do feel the same,’ said Aramis, very quietly, closing his hand around d’Artagnan’s fingers at the same time.

D’Artagnan let out a short gasp, shocked that Aramis had been awake and heard him and shocked at what his lover had just said.

Aramis managed to open his eyes and focused on d’Artagnan.

‘I’m sorry I tried to get you to take sides…it was wrong of me to use you like that…can you forgive me?’

D’Artagnan nodded, ‘Of course, I’m just glad you’re OK…well…you know.’

Aramis smiled, ‘I know…I’m sorry.’

‘Stop apologising,’ said d’Artagnan unable to help a grin as he spoke, ‘although you probably will have to apologies to the others.’

Aramis nodded, ‘I know…’

D’Artagnan leaned in and kissed Aramis, who kissed him back.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it.   
> I have another, lighter, piece written, a one shot, which I will put up at the weekend. And I am working on another longer story as well. 
> 
> This was the prompt I got from Lady_Neve…  
> Possible prompt: Six months later or so, Aramis is mistaken for or disguised as Spanish soldier and taken prisoner. His brothers come to the rescue with plenty of angst for d'Artagnan as he realizes his love for Aramis is as strong as his love for Constance. There is angst for Aramis as he is a beautiful man being held by soldiers who have not seen a woman in months and for his acceptance of his feelings for d'Artagnan, and there is angst for Athos and Porthos because they realize the true danger Aramis is in and try to hide it from d'Artagnan. Bonus points if the four had a big fight before Aramis left because they didn't want him to go on the mission, but Aramis went anyway.


End file.
